Rearendian Racer
by WildlifeWarrioress
Summary: We all know about McQueen's WGP experience, but what about those of the other race-cars? This is the story of Rip Clutchgoneski, one of the other WGP contestants. Story told in 1st Person, from Rip's POV. On hold until I finish my other Cars fanfic.
1. About me

**Cars 2 and all related characters are copywrited by Disney and Pixar!**

**Sorry for not working on my stories as often as I used to but I have been very caught up in the so-called "Wolf Wars" recently, and it has taken my mind off of writing stories.**

**This entire story is from Rip's POV.**

* * *

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_ The alarm clock goes off. It is 7:00 AM. Time to get up.

Not that I want to. I would rather sleep a little longer. But I couldn't. I have a busy day, as usual. Most of it would be fun and frolicking, but I also have training to do. I also volunteer today (more on that later).

I push the snooze button on the alarm clock, and get out of bed. I yawn and stretch. After "relieving" myself, I go into the kitchen to have breakfast. I have a fruit salad, which is yummy.

Then I conduct my usual morning routine. I brush my teeth, polish my coat, check the pressure of my tires, etc. Afterwards I leave the house.

You're probably wondering who I am by now. So I'll introduce myself! My name is Rip Clutchgoneski.

Rip. It's a weird name, I know. You're probably very familiar with the fact that R.I.P. stands for "Rest in Peace." As in, dead. Which is the exact opposite of me; I'm so young and full of life! Not to mention that I don't want to die! As to why I was named Rip I will never know. Is it because I'm supposed to be killed? That's a scary thought - no, make that a terrifying thought. Like I said, I don't want to die! So, for comfort, I like to translate R.I.P. as something else: Really Interesting Personality. It's a much better description of me; you could say that I'm a very unique character. Plus, it doesn't have to do with death!

Obviously I am a male. I don't think I really have to state this, but I just had to throw that out there. Oh, and I am still single.

I am a Formula 6000* - not to be confused with the Formula One. As my "species" indicates, I am a race-car. And I race. And I win. I love to race; it's very exciting. Even if I lose it's still fun. I do my best, I have a good spirit about it, and that's what counts!

I am orange, red and green - the colors I was born with. Also the colors of my country's flag. As I mentioned earlier, I am young - 22 years to be exact.

I am from the Republic of New Rearendia. Rearendia...I'm sure you chuckled at this, if not now then at least the first time you heard this name. And don't be shy to admit it; what's not funny about it? Rearendia...rear-end...butt! I still laugh and joke about it, even though I lived here my whole life!

Our country is located on an island off of the coast of Africa (which we simply call "New Rearendia"). It was only earlier this year that the Republic of New Rearendia became it's own independent nation. Up until then, New Rearendia was a colony of a European country, Russia to be exact (yes, Russia is a part of Europe). We've adapted to independence rather quickly - yet again, we didn't want Russian politicans dictating our lives and how we lived on the island and managed our natural resources and etc. Thankfully, though, Russia is still our "friend," and they help us adjust to ruling ourselves. I won't go over the history of New Rearendia and its relations to Russia as this is not a history class!

As stated earlier, I have a really interesting personality. Simply put, I am happy, friendly, silly, excitable, joyful, carefree, and innocent. I don't care if others find me weird; I love myself for who I am, and I would never change for the world!

So yeah, that's the Clutchgoneski 101 Course...along with a little bit of info about New Rearendia. Now time to get back to my life.

* * *

**By the way, I did not make up the "R.I.P. = Really Interesting Personality" thing...Rip did (seriously, he did; check out his DA profile)!**

***In a Disney/Pixar Cars book called Meet the Cars, Rip is considered to be a Formula 6000. However, I have also read that he is a Caparo T1.**


	2. Invite to the WGP

As I leave my home I enter the streets of New Rearendia's major urban area, the town-city of Wheeli. The buildings are a beautiful combination of traditional African and Russian structures...along with a touch of eco-friendliness to most of them. Tourists say that it's the Sub-Saharan version of Moscow.

As usual, everyone greets me as I drive down the streets and, being the kind car that I am, I greet them back. Not only do they greet me because New Rearendians are friendly like that, but also because I'm the most famous individual on the island due to my talents on the track.

After a few minutes I arrive at the Rearendian Wildlife Conservation Center, otherwise known as RWCC. Today I am to care for and play with Krasota.

Krasota is an orphaned cub of an endangered species of hyaena* endemic to New Rearendia. Her parents, littermates, and clan were killed by poachers. So the RWCC took her in to care for her. Our ultimate goal is to be able to release her back into the wild. Her name, Krasota, is the Russian word for "beauty." She may just be cute now, but when she grows up she will be a beautiful creature.

Upon me entering her habitat Krasota jumps up on me in excitement. She is one very affectionate critter, and she highly enjoys my company. After letting her jump and climb all over me for a few minutes I grab a baby bottle. Upon seeing the bottle the cub instantly calms down, and lets me pick her up. I carry her out of the exhibit and into the main lobby - the reason why I feed her there is so that visitors can see her and ask questions about the species if they were curious. One of the main goals of the RWCC is education about New Rearendia's unique native wildlife.

I start to bottle-feed her. As usual, Krasota sucks wildly from the bottle, and milk had gotten all over her muzzle - and my wheels. But I don't mind; I am used to it.

From where I was sitting I was able to see the TV that was in the lobby. As usual, the news was on. Boring.

Just as Krasota finishes the milk, however, everyone starts to surround the TV. Curiosity took the best of me, so I go to investigate. Krasota tags along with me.

On the TV is this green British car. Sir Miles Axlerod, is what they call him. He once owned this huge oil refinery, but he sold it and changed from a oil-user into an electric car. They say that he's then dedicated his life to finding a safe, efficient alternative fuel. For this reason he is immensely popular in New Rearendia, as we are all for finding eco-friendly, alternative fuels.

The news-reporter was talking about how Axlerod had finally created the alternative fuel - specifically, it was a bio-fuel which he called "Allinol." Upon hearing this everyone in the room becomes excited. I do too, of course. Krasota is as well, as she sensed everyone else's excitement.

Then Miles starts to talk. He talks about this event that he created to show the world that Allinol is safe, effiecient, and the hope of the future. This event he calls the World Grand Prix. He explains that it is a series of three races - one in Japan, one in Italy, and one in England - in which the world's best race-cars would compete for the grand prize.

I wish that I could compete in the World Grand Prix. It looks so fun - plus, it'd make me feel very honorable and it'll help put our country on the map! But I don't think that in a million years I could be considered one of the best race-cars in the world and qualify for such a race. I'm certainly a very good racer, no doubt about it; I've qualified in quite a number of international races. But I'm nothing compared to, say, this Francesco Bernoulli - whom Miles is talking about on the TV at the moment.

Axlerod briefly introduces the other competitors. One in particular catches my eye. Her name is Carla Veloso. She is Brazilian, and she is soo pretty! I really wish that I could meet her, but there's no way that I'd ever get a chance to. Plus, I'm sure that all of the guys in the race will be trying to get her to date them anyway.

I start to daydream. I imagine myself as a participant in the World Grand Prix, racing among the best of the champions. The crowd is cheering wildly as they cheer our names, including mine. I end up winning the race. The fans throw flowers on me and all of the other racers (after all, they deserve the recognition). Carla drives up to me and kisses me and-

Krasota's pawing brings me back to reality.

After he finishes discussing the race-cars that will be competing (there are 9 so far), Miles mentions that he has sent an invitation to a Lightning McQueen, but that he has yet to receive a response. He assumes the reason is due to a busy racing season, which is understandable. Axlerod then mentions that he is travelling to the country of the 11th car that he plans on asking to compete in the World Grand Prix and asking that car directly, rather than through sending an invitation. He says that the reason for this is that he's never been to this car's home country before and that he would really like to get a chance to see it. This 11th car is not mentioned by name; not even the car's country is mentioned. I wonder who this 11th car is and where he lives (Miles implies that the car is male).

Then the TV goes back to discussing the boring news again. Everyone in the lobby is talking about the World Grand Prix. All of a sudden I feel pain in my tail. "Ouch!" I complain. After my initial reaction of bolting forward to escape the pain (somehow I think this works), I look behind me, to see Krasota gnawing on my tail (she somehow managed to stay on me when I drove forward). I scold her. "No, Krasota! You do not bite on my tail; it hurts me!"

Krasota stops chewing on my tail, and leaps onto my hood. She looks at me with the saddest-looking face - those big eyes look so pleading. There is absolutely no way that I could stay angry at her. Plus, she stopped nipping me, and anger is not a part of my personality. I comfort her. "It's ok, girl, I'm not mad at you. I just don't want you biting my tail because it causes Rip pain and he does not like pain." I pet her. She immediately cheers up, and starts to lick me - but only for a few moments. She then yawns, and lays down on my hood. Before I know it she is fast asleep. Krasota is always sleepy after I feed her.

Being careful not to wake her, I take Krasota back to her habitat, and put her in her den. I would come back to play with her later.

I leave the RWCC. It is now time for my race training.

The location that I train at depends on the day - really it depends on what ability my pitties want me to practice on (I have yet to get a pit crew chief). Today I am going to train on Sunset Beach, so-called because that's the best place in all of New Rearendia to view the setting sun (and yes, we also have a Sunrise Beach on our island, in case you were curious). I am to test my speed today. I meet my pitties on the beach, and they fill my tank with fuel - our country's own, locally grown and produced bio-fuel, to be specific. As they fill my tank I watch a Sea Mongoose** swimming in the ocean, catching and eating fish. I do not realize that they finished filling my tank and that I am all ready to start.

I feel one of the pitties slap my side. "Ow!" I complain.

"Rip! You need to focus! Stop watching whatever it is that you're staring at!" the pit crew member scolds. They do that when I'm not paying attention. As usual, I respond by complaining and rubbing my side. They ignore me.

Today I am to drive across the whole beach as fast as I could. Me and one of the pit crew members stay on the one side of the beach, while the rest of the pitties drive to the other side of the beach.

The pit crew member gets behind me. I stretch as he gives me advice. When the pitties on the other side of the beach signal that they are ready for me to go, I accelerate as quickly as I could - just in time to avoid being jabbed with a stick by the pittie. This is the pitties' way of training me to accelerate as fast as I can. The quicker I accelerate, the less likely I am to be poked. But if I did not accelerate quickly enough then I am poked.

I drive across the beach, enjoying the scenery but also focusing on my task. I feel the wind across my face and body, a feeling that I enjoy very much.

It did not take very long to reach the other side of the beach. The pitties look at their little timing and speed recording device. They tell me that I've broken my time record, but that I also only drove at a maximum speed of 330 kilometres per hour***. For some reason they feel that I can drive much faster than this, and they are not afraid to let me know that.

I pant a little bit. I grab a canteen of water and gulp it down. As I drink, a green car drives onto the beach. This car is immediately recognizable; he is the Sir Miles Axlerod that is constantly in the news. What in the world is he doing here in New Rearendia?

He talks to the pitties, who then point at me. Axlerod drives over to me. I drop the canteen, which is completely empty cause I drank all of the water in it (I was that thirsty).

"Hello," Miles greets. "Are you Mr. Rip Clutchgoneski of the Republic of New Rearendia?"

"Yes," I reply as I wipe water off of my mouth.

Axlerod hands me an envelope. "I hereby formally invite you to participate in the first ever running of the World Grand Prix! Records indicate that you have won a number of high competition international races that qualify you for the World Grand Prix, and your skill and exuberance has resulted in the creation of an African champion! Congratulations, and I hope that you decide to join us in this once-in-a-lifetime event!"

I stare at the British car. Excitement and disbelief build up inside me. "Are...are you serious?" I ask.

"If I wasn't serious then I wouldn't be here," was Miles' response.

I cannot hide my excitement. "Oh my goodness this is the most exciting moment of my life I can't believe it I never thought that I would ever be good enough to be able to run in the World Grand Prix!"

"Well, you thought wrong, my friend," Axlerod said, partly interrupting my seemingly endless blabbering. "So, what'da say? You in or not?"

"Yes, of course!" I respond.

"Great! I will see you in Tokyo!" Miles Axlerod then left, assumingly to hop on a plane.

The pitties applaud and congratulate me. I continue my ranting. "I get to race in the World Grand Prix this is so exciting and awesome and unbelievable yet so true this is a dream come true I can't wait to meet the other best race-cars yay I get to meet that gorgeous Carla Veloso-"

One of the pitties tries to calm me. "Hey, Rip, relax dude! I know you're very happy and all but please try to control yourself! You're going to the most professional of events so you need to keep yourself under control and learn to not get overexcited and most importantly you need to behave yourself!"

I ignore then, and continue voicing my thoughts. The pitties realize that trying to stop me was useless, so they say goodbye and drive off. I go back to Wheeli. I play with Krasota for a little bit, then I drive home and start packing the stuff that I will need when I go to the races.

* * *

**I'm sorry, but I just had to make Rip a conservationist; the idea was just too tempting to resist!**

***The word "Hyaena" is also spelled as "hyena" - it seems like the former spelling is preferred by the scientific  
****community, so that's why I used it as opposed to the latter spelling (which is the more familiar way of spelling the word).**

****The Sea Mongoose is actually a true mongoose, not a fancy sea creature named after a mammal of which it is totally unrelated to (and no, it is not real; it is just one of numerous species endemic to New Rearendia that I obviously made up).**

*****330 kph is approximately 205 mph.**


	3. Celebration Party

The news that Axlerod invited me to participate in the World Grand Prix spread throughout Wheeli and New Rearendia like a wildfire. Everyone who sees me congratulates me. I thank them all.

I eagerly anticipate the day I leave for Japan. But that's a week away. Which means, I have to wait. Boring; I hate waiting. But I have no choice. So, as I wait, I do what I usually do: I train, I play and fool around, etc. But I become more impatient each day.

It is finally the day before I leave. The day goes by as usual. But, that evening, two of my pals blindfold me. Why are they blindfolding me?

They lead me somewhere. When we arrive, they take the blindfold off. We are at Sunset Beach. There is a huge party.

"Congratulations Rip!" everybody shouts at once. A huge sign reading "Good luck Rip Clutchgoneski!" is hung above the stage.

A huge grin grows on my face. "Gee, thanks guys! I really appreciate this!"

"No problem, Rip! After all, you deserve it!" A lady car leads me to the buffet. The tables are covered with all kinds of fruits and sweets, including cake, and seafood and all other kinds of delicious food. My mouth waters, I lick my lips. I drive at the tables, and grab as much food as my plate would carry. Mainly, I fill it with fruits and other sweet stuff - and a piece of cake, of course. I also grab a smoothie.

One thing you should know about me: I have a sweet tooth, and I love food.

Everybody laughs - except my pitties; they think that I'm going to ruin my racing abilities by doing this.

After I grab my fair share (actually, my over share) of food, everybody else takes what it left. We eat - and talk.

As we eat, there is some entertainment on the stage. Spiritual cars chant a traditional New Rearendian song, and dance to it.

I look at my plate full of food. There are so many goodies on it, what to eat first? I decide to gobble down the cake first. Then I wolf down the sweets, and then the fruits. Afterwards I drink the smoothie.

By the time I finish eating my stomach is so bloated that it feels like it could explode at any moment. I can't even move; I'm so full. So I sit back and relax as everyone else continues to eat and watch the show.

After who know how long, one of the spiritual cars comes to me and leads me onto the stage (thankfully the bloated feeling has subsided and as such I can move again). The spiritual cars chant, drum, and throw flowers and leaves on me, as the old Shaman chants in the native New Rearendian language. He speaks about how I have been blessed by the spirits and that I have pleased my ancestors and all of that stuff. He then talks about Wolf and how he symbolizes speed and that, for this reason, he is my Spirit Animal and that, as long as Wolf prospers, I shall have good luck in the World Grand Prix.

Afterwards everybody dances. I enjoy myself as I dance to the beat of the music. I tap my wheels, twirl around, shake my booty.

We party like there's no tomorrow; we dance for hours. But it does not last forever; after who knows how many hours, the party is over and everybody leaves.

I'm soo tired that I can barely keep my eyes open. I yawn. I think I could just fall asleep right at the spot. Indeed, that's all I want to do right now.

I shut my eyes. But I was only able to snooze for a few minutes before I am woken. I stretch and yawn. My friends get me up on my wheels, and they help me drive back to my house.

Once I arrive home, I hope into bed, pull the blankets over my body, and instantly fall asleep.


	4. Flight to Japan

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_ The alarm clock goes off. It is 4:30 AM.

I push the snooze button, and cover my head with the blankets.

Five minutes later: _Beep! Beep! Beep!_ I push the snooze button again. That alarm clock is very annoying.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_ The alarm clock goes off five minutes after the second time.

If that thing wasn't so expensive then I would be throwing it across the room and into the wall at the moment. But I don't.

Instead, I finally get out of bed and turn it off. I stretch. I respond to those certain biological needs of mine, have breakfast, and conduct my usual morning routine. Then I grab my bags and head off to the airport.

Well, I actually go to the pier. A boat must be taken to get to the airport; it just happens to be on a small island off the coast. The reason for this is that, when they settled our country, the Russians destroyed the natural habitat of that little offshore island and replaced it with agriculture. Well, by the time agriculture left the island it was so badly ruined that there was no hope for restoring it. So it is used for the airport. Why destroy more of the natural land when an ecologically dead island can be used for the airport instead, right?

When I reach the pier I have to wait a few minutes for the boat. When the boat arrives, me and the others who have flights today get a ride over to the so-called "Air Island." During the ride I stare at the waves in the water and out across the seas. I see dolphins riding the waves of the boat.

Upon arriving at the airport I do what every other passenger does: I check in my bags, I go through security (which I hate - it's so intruding), I find where I board, etc. By the time all that is done it is 6:15 AM. My flight is at 7.

For 15 minutes I just sit around and do nothing. I'll admit, I can be very lazy at times. But I work hard, so I deserve to idle on occasions.

I look around the airport from where I am. My eyes catch sight of a TV. But figures, the boring news is on. I watch it anyway, hoping that something about the World Grand Prix will come on. Plus, I've got nothing else to do.

Nothing about the World Grand Prix comes on, but something about wildlife does (environmentalism is a big thing here in New Rearendia). It is about gray wolves in the part of the Rocky Mountains called Idaho, in the U.S.A. The newscaster says that Idaho officials have aerial gunned some wolves in a part of Idaho called the Lolo. Sad.

I can't help but think about what the Shaman said. Something about how if wolves thrives then I will win the races. But what happens if they are killed? Will I not succeed in the races?

At 6:30 the plane starts boarding. Being in First Class, I am among the first cars to board. I find my seat, and settle down in it. Although I'm still tired, I start to think about the World Grand Prix. I wonder what my competitors are like; I can't wait to meet them.

My thoughts are interrupted by the safety education presentation that they do on every flight. After that is over with, the plane takes off. As it does I watch out the window.

Once the plane is in the air I close my eyes and take a nap. I dream about the World Grand Prix again:

Me and the 10 other race-cars are racing the first race in Tokyo, Japan. As usual I'm towards the front of the pack, which is being lead by Francesco and McQueen, who are jockeying for the lead. Carla is next to me, and the rest of the cars are behind us. We maintain our positions for the three laps, but once we reach the home-stretch I burst ahead of the pack and win the race (Carla comes in second place). Everyone rewards us. Carla comes up to me and kisses me, and I kiss her back. We hug.

All of a sudden, one of those Idaho wolves comes running from out of nowhere, and interrupts the kissing and hugging. Following it is a plane, and in the plane is a car - a lemon - trying to shoot at it. The wolf dodges the bullets, panicking and desperately trying to get out of here. The lemon in the plane soon notices me, and shifts his attention from the wolf to me. The lemon aims the gun at me. I instinctively flee. But when I look over my "shoulder," I see the plane pursuing me. A surge of panic rushes through my body (in real life I start to twitch uncomfortably in my seat on the plane). The lemon pulls the trigger; a shot is heard. Despite my attempts to escape, the bullet is heading straight towards me and-

I wake up shrieking. Everyone glances at me. The lemon car seated next to me is concerned. "Are you ok, young one?" she asks.

"Yes, I'm fine," I respond. "I just had a bad dream, is all. Well, it started off as a good dream, but then it became a bad one."

The friendly lemon pats my head. "Relax, little one. It was just a dream; it's not real. Go back to sleep now."

I follow the advice, and soon all thoughts of that nightmare are gone as I go back to my nap. I have more dreams about the World Grand Prix, but none of them involve being killed by a lemon aerial shooter. They all involve Carla kissing me, though.


	5. Welcome to Tokyo

******Sorry for not updating in, like, forever but I have been extremely busy with school and wolf activism and stuff.**

* * *

I have no clue as to how long the flight lasted, nor do I really care. All I know is that the plane finally landed in Tokyo. Thankfully for me, I was able to sleep for most of the flight. Meaning that, although I'm in that I-just-woke-up mood now, I will be hyperactive at the party. Which is a good thing, cause I love parties.

After I get off of the plane, I gather my baggage and meet up with my pitties. Then we leave the airport to find our hotel. Being the curious car that I am, I try to explore everything that I see in Tokyo. The lights are just so pretty, and there is so much to see here! But my pitties stop me every time; they grab me and drag me away whenever I get distracted and try to go near something.

After an hour - the longer time being due to me constantly trying to wander off - we arrive at the hotel. It is the same hotel that all of the other World Grand Prix contenders are staying at, and it is fancy. I get my own room, while the pitties get their own room separate from mine. Which is a relief - I won't have to deal with their pestering over the night. My pitties command me around a lot, telling me to do this or to not do that, and it is annoying.

The room is very nice. It is huge, and the bed is big enough to fit two full-sized adult cars - more than enough room for me. It is very comfortable and soft. There is also an area with a couch and a TV, so I can watch a movie or something after the race or while I'm resting or before I go to bed or something. Hmm, perhaps I should check to see what movies they have; I wanna watch something right now. There is even a tiny kitchen, so I can have and cook some food. The loo is clean and somewhat fancy - much more so than the ones back at home. Yeah, I think I'm gonna enjoy it here.

After unpacking my stuff I look at the movie list and pick out a movie. I choose to watch Ratatouille. I spend the next two hours watching the movie and relaxing.

Of course, the pitties come and interrupt my relaxation, but thankfully this is after the movie ends. "Hey Rip, the party starts soon," one of them tells me.

"Yay!" I exclaim. I jump for joy.

The party. I'm so excited for that party. I can't wait to see my fellow World Grand Prix competitors for the first time, and to see Axlerod again, and to see everybody else that will be at the party. Oh, and I can't forget, I can't wait to eat the good food that they will have.

My pitties then tell me that I need to get my keister (whatever that is) out of the room now so that I'm not late to the party. I do as they say. We leave the hotel and drive to the Tokyo National Art Center, which is where the welcome party is being held.

Just as I was about to bolt inside, one of my pitties grabs hold of my hind wheel. Worse, he start to scold me. "Now Rip, you need to be on your best behavior tonight! Remember that this is a professional event, and I don't want anybody to be embarrassed due to your foolish behavior! I don't want to hear that you've been up to trouble, understand?"

I sigh. "Yes, I understand."

"Good. Have fun then, and we'll see you soon." The pitties then leave me be.

I eagerly enter the Tokyo National Art Center.


End file.
